


A Little Friend Fiction

by carolyncaves



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alcohol, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Siblings, a few surprise cameos - Freeform, including one by an ikea bookshelf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-10
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-11-15 02:00:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18064433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carolyncaves/pseuds/carolyncaves
Summary: Two short stories:Gladio is assigned to guard King Regis on a bar crawl across Insomnia; and,Iris builds a bookcase, and Gladio figures out how to help.Part of the FFXV Jeopardy prompt challenge.





	1. New Tricks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Side Quests [800]: Bar Crawl, Gladio + Regis prompted by anonymous_
> 
> Let's assume the drinking age in Insomnia is 18.

‘A simple plainclothes detail’, that’s what Dad said. He just had another obligation that night. Could Gladio cover it?

‘Yeah, of course’ seemed like the only answer.

Gladio stood as rigid as the peak of his hair and as sharp as the line of his undercut, watching His Majesty King Regis full-send a pint of beer while the bartender shook his head with clear bemusement.

“Don’t see many gents your age on a bar crawl,” he observed.

“I drank them all under the table years ago,” King Regis replied with a smile. He set the pint glass on the bar with enough paper crowns to cover the drink four times over.

The bartender quirked an appreciative eyebrow. “Good luck to you.”

King Regis touched the brim of his worn baseball cap, a hint of a salute, and then he was making for door. Gladio jumped to follow him.

He’d never been on a solo detail with the King before. He did it all the time for Noct, but somehow this was different. He felt like he was either going to explode with pride or come apart from the stress.

King Regis didn’t have his cane today, and his limp was as understated as his outfit. A shirt, a vest, and the most boring jeans on Eos. They’d started as early as they could – to beat the crowds, King Regis explained, and so he’d have plenty of time at their last stop. Apparently the proprietor there was some kind of friend of his.

Two down, five to go.

“You’re old enough to drink, aren’t you, Gladio?” King Regis asked, edging over on the sidewalk so a flock of young people could go around them.

“Yes, sir.” For three whole weeks, Gladio didn’t add.

“Perhaps I should buy you a round at the next establishment, in congratulations.”

“I’m on duty, sir,” Gladio said gravely.

“I could make it an order, if that would help,” King Regis said, some kind of glimmer in his eye.

Gladio felt a sliver of panic. If the King ordered him to do it, was he supposed to obey? Shouldn’t he still refuse?

“That’s quite a look,” King Regis said, even though Gladio’s been pretty sure he had his face under control. “Don’t worry, Gladiolus. I won’t compromise you with that dilemma.”

The stops went pretty quickly – dive bar, gastropub, rustic-chic. King Regis was proceeding with steady purpose, trying to get where he was going, and he didn’t really seem affected by the drinks. Maybe it was his magic, or maybe at his age he’d built up a decent tolerance.

At the second-to-last stop, the bartender was a woman, maybe the King’s age or older. King Regis claimed a seat at the bar, and Gladio once again took a position at his elbow. Not quite standing at attention the way he wanted – they were trying to keep a low profile, within reason – but ready, so he could keep an eye on the room and react fast if he needed to.

The bartender served the King a cocktail – the bar’s specialty – and gave Gladio a once-over. “Is he your son? If he’s drinking, I’ll need to see some ID.”

“He’s my nephew,” King Regis said, the word rolling off his tongue so easily it caught Gladio off guard. “And he won’t be having anything. He’s here as my designated minder. Tasked to make sure I don’t fall off a curb or wander into traffic.”

“Bah, kids, they think anyone over forty is an invalid. You don’t look old enough to be senile yet.”

The King smiled. “His father’s behind it. He means well, but sometimes I can hardly get him to let me out of his sight.”

“Suppose that’s what family’s for.” The bartender took the King’s credit card. “Anyway, good luck closing out the circuit.” She glanced at the name on the card, then looked hard at King Regis. Gladio tensed. King Regis quirked an eyebrow. “Your Majesty,” she added pointedly, before she went and rang up the tab.

If her hands were a little less steady when she came back with the check, King Regis didn’t say anything – and he wrote a big number in the tip line all the same.

It was three blocks to their last stop, and by that point the Insomnian nightlife was picking up speed. A big group of women came down the sidewalk, chatting and laughing and probably at least halfway down their punch cards themselves, and Gladio had to usher the King into the lee of a trashcan and some newspaper machines to let them pass.

“Sorry, sir,” Gladio muttered.

“It’s quite all right, Gladio. Unless one of them pulls out a particularly sharp nail file, I think we’ll make it in good time.” The King’s face sobered. “Though I suppose you’d take it for me, if you could.”

“Of course, sir,” Gladio said gravely. He was prepared to do it. Had been for as long as he could remember.

King Regis looked up at him. Every hint of mirth was gone from his face. “You’re painfully young for it, Gladio. I hope you won’t take that the wrong way. But I think I would prefer to let Noct grow up with you at his side than see your life spent for an old man’s.”

That was maybe the plainest Gladio had ever heard the King speak. He didn’t know what to say. What to think, even.

“Never mind,” King Regis said, that easy smile back in place. “I’m in my cups, it seems, and saying things I shouldn’t. Why don’t we get where we’re going, and then it will all be moot.”

“Yes, sir,” Gladio said, and he led the way.

The last stop was a bar that was having its grand opening. It sported the same logo that was on the top of the King's punch card, so maybe they were sponsoring the bar crawl to promote. It looked like the kind of place that would have locally-sourced ingredients and fancy custom cocktails. The smell of delicious food blew out the doors as they entered. The King smiled widely at a man behind the bar, maybe the owner, who smiled widely in return. Gladio didn't catch what they said in greeting, though, because the other bartender looked like ...

Not 'looked like'. The other bartender _was_ his dad.

The owner let out a booming laugh. "And this must be him, the younger shield you’ve been telling me about. Six, Clarus, he looks just like you."

"Thirty years removed," King Regis chuckled. "Gladio, this is Wesk Armaugh, one of my former retainers and a very old friend."

"And an absolute bastard," Dad added, completely straight.

"Don't listen to him," Wesk said, as he and King Regis both gestured for Gladio to take a seat at the bar and Gladio – helpless – obeyed. "He just thought I would forget about the offer he made me a few years back."

"A few decades back," Clarus corrected.

"To be fair, it was less an offer and more a derisive remark,” King Regis said. “Something like 'Sure, Weskham, you'll open a restaurant in Insomnia and I'll tend bar.'"

"The joke's on both of you. I said it so he'd make me eat my words. Don't know what's taken him so long."

Gladio hoped he didn't look as dazed as he felt. The King shook Wesk's hand warmly, and his dad was crossing his arms and scowling in a _pleased_ way, and they all looked like ... friends. Close, comfortable friends.

Gladio suddenly felt a strong disorientation. Like he was in two places at once. Or maybe like he'd slipped through time. He wasn't sure in which direction.

Wesk crowed over Gladio a little, clapped him on the shoulder and asked him those routine questions real adults always asked when they seemed to know you a lot better than you knew them. Gladio liked Wesk – his first impression of him, anyway – but with the King and his dad looking on, he felt more on-duty than he had all night. Eventually Wesk and King Regis got drawn into a conversation with each other and Gladio could take a breath.

There was a hard, smooth noise – Dad sliding a beer toward him across the pristinely polished bar. "Good work tonight," he said, before leaving Gladio alone to go to badger his friends.

Gladio felt kind of buzzed even before he took the first sip.


	2. BILLY

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Side Quests [400]: IKEA, Gladio + Iris prompted by izzyv1o_

"I think you're supposed to ..."

"I can do it, Gladio!"

Iris was sitting cross-legged in a sea of differently-sized screws and pre-drilled boards, frowning at the booklet of picture-based instructions open across her bony knees. She'd been chewing on the end of her screwdriver, so Gladio figured he should help her, but this was the third time she'd cut him off.

"Why'd you call me in here if you didn't want me to help?" Gladio asked.

"I just need you to hold the side up.”

“Yeah, but I can tell you what to do next. Hell, I can build it for you if you want.”

"No,” Iris said. “I can figure it out myself."

A part of Gladio really wanted to take the screwdriver and take over. That’s what big brothers were for. Plus it would be faster, meaning Gladio could get back to his book. But Iris was twelve now, and she was smart. If she wanted to figure it out herself ... Gladio could let her.

"All right," Gladio said. "Just tell me what you want me to do."

"Okay," Iris said firmly. She resumed studying the instruction manual, concentration etched on her brow.

She worked out each step, one by one. A few of them took a little elbow grease or an extra set of hands, but otherwise Gladio stayed out of it.

Until she got to the hinge assembly. She frowned at that diagram for a long time. She squinted at the hinge plate with all its little screws, turning it over in her hand. She glanced up at Gladio warily.

Gladio held his tongue.

Iris sighed. "How does it work?"

"Let me see that for a sec," Gladio said, and Iris passed him the booklet. He took a closer look and showed her.

She was in the clear after that, and a little while later she had a new glass-doored bookcase in the corner of her room. But she didn’t look happy about it.

"You did a good job," Gladio said. "I mean, look at it. The doors are on straight and the shelves are all going the right direction."

"I couldn’t do it, though. Not by myself."

"You did most of it all on your own. And when you ran into something above your level, you were smart enough to consult an expert. Dad does it all the time. The King has a whole council."

"Oh," Iris said, a smile spreading across her face. "Well. Thanks for being on my council, then."

Gladio grabbed her in a (gentle) headlock, which made her scream. "Any time."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _“It is estimated that every five seconds, one BILLY bookcase is sold somewhere in the world. Pretty impressive considering we launched BILLY in 1979. It’s the booklovers choice that never goes out of style.”_

**Author's Note:**

> As always, I love you, and comments and kudos are blessed. <3 If you want a fic written just for you, come submit a jeopardy prompt over on [tumblr](https://carolyncaves.tumblr.com/tagged/ffxv-jeopardy).


End file.
